


it feels better biting down

by incest_or_death



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Ficlet, Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incest_or_death/pseuds/incest_or_death
Summary: He barely makes a sound, but his face as he unravels under her is an orchestra.
Relationships: Nott/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	it feels better biting down

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, title from 'biting down' by lorde

Nott is small in his arms. She feels safe within them, cloistered from the world outside, that shuns and fears her. Herself included.

But Caleb bears no ill will towards her. He pulls her into his embrace, skin clammy in the cold, but still warmer than the freezing air around them. Her hands are a deep green against his pale, sun-starved skin, her blackened claws a stark contrast. The blood they draw, trickling deep red along his shuddering chest, sets her own blood to boil, has her pussy clenching tight around his cock.

Caleb doesn’t cry out— he’s trained against that. He barely makes a sound, but his face as he unravels under her is an orchestra, his eyes bright and blown out, his lips a mess of blood and spit, bruised and split open from his own teeth as well as her own. Tears build up in hazy eyes, pour down the sides of his face as he gazes at nothing, too caught up in the onslaught of sensations.

 _Good exercise_ , he once said. Oh, the ignorance of inexperience. Caleb can barely match Nott’s rhythm. His hands scramble over her sweat-slick skin, grip tight, nails digging in, then scramble over her skin again for purchase. It’s less of an exercise of a body, moreso of the mind. Every night that they do this, frantic and blissed out, they sleep soundly together. And unravel the knotted emotions between themselves the next day, and the next, and the next. Until the space between them has grown uncomfortable, stretched too thin for either of them to take a full breath. And so they find themselves in each other’s arms again, an inextricable knot of skin and blood and limbs, and in the days that follow, healing scars and unspoken words, blood and sweat and cum washed off in silence.


End file.
